


Strong Currents

by YumeHanabi



Series: Before the Dawn [2]
Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Canon, Taurus Era, Trauma, author taking liberties with the link mechanics, battles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26345095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeHanabi/pseuds/YumeHanabi
Summary: Xian Du, a stepping stone in the conquest of Auj Oule. As the battle rages on, Gaius finds himself facing his worst fears.Written for Tales of Xillia Week Day 6: Sunset Clime {Xian Du | Fight}
Relationships: Gaius/Wingul (Tales of Xillia)
Series: Before the Dawn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685662
Comments: 12
Kudos: 9
Collections: Tales of Xillia Week





	Strong Currents

**Author's Note:**

> ...Why is it that every time I want to write fluff I end up with angst? ^^;;;
> 
> This fic is dealing with some heavy themes. It's the first time I'm treating that subject, so I hope it's okay.
> 
> This is set during Gaius' conquest of Auj Oule. He and Wingul just started getting intimate a few months before, so they're still navigating their feelings ~~and horniness.~~
> 
> Hover on Long Dau for translation :)

The city of Xian Du was not a traditional castle town in any sense of the word. Whereas clans like the Long Dau built a city around their castle, and walls around their city, the Kitarl capital had no castle to speak of. Buildings were built within the cliffside, and the chief’s residence was no exception. Thus, the city’s main line of defense was not a strongly defended fortress, but instead its unique position at the bottom of a canyon. Accesses were few and not conductive to a break-through; indeed, most of the entry points on land were long tunnels through the rock, which were, in Wingul’s definite words, a “death trap.” Gaius’ strategist was categorical: if they were to subjugate the city, they would have to gain control of the river.

Gaius’ gaze was fixed ahead, on the meandering cliffs that formed the way to Xian Du. From time to time, small rocks detached from the cliff edge, sending ripples through the water when they hit its surface. The current was making the boat sway, and with each new rocking Gaius’ shoulders grew tenser and tenser.

“Seasick?” asked Wingul beside him. Contrary to Gaius, he looked perfectly relaxed.

Gaius refrained from unleashing his anxiety upon his right hand, from asking him if he was _sure_ it was safe, if their troops were not going to end up as fish bait after all. Wingul was right, the river was their best route leading into Xian Du. Regardless of his apprehension, Gaius trusted his judgment.

“I grew up in the mountains,” he said as nonchalantly as he could muster.

“Heh. Good thing your future throne lies atop a mountain, then.”

Gaius smiled.

They did not exchange any further word for the rest of the journey, their mind entirely focused on the fight ahead.

Slowly, the fleet made its way toward Xian Du. Toward a stepping stone in the conquest of Auj Oule.

* * *

“Wyverns?”

“As you know,” Wingul explained, “the Kitarl have perfected mastery of the beastcraft artes. Capturing their stronghold would net us their cooperation, which means…”

“Control of their monsters,” Gaius concluded. “Why wyverns specifically, though?”

“Theoretically, they can be used for fast transport. The time envoys would take to visit remote tribes would be cut drastically. I estimate we could gain six months to a year, factoring in the time it would take to train some of our men for flying.”

Gaius thought about it. Their current ways of recruiting clans to their cause was to first send sylphjays carrying letters, then messengers to negotiate in person. Some clans, however, were far out of reach, and going to them took time and resources. If a week’s journey could be accomplished in less than a day thanks to flying mounts, a world of new possibilities suddenly opened before their eyes.

“I have another use in mind for wyverns,” Wingul added after a while. His brows were creased and his eyes focused on a point on their strategy map. Gaius followed his gaze, past the clutter of pieces representing their army around Xian Du, up the Mon Highlands, landing on…

Gaius raised an eyebrow. “Khan Baliq?”

Wingul turned toward him, his expression serious. “It is still merely an idea, and we will have to test how precisely wyverns can be directed, but…” He bent over the map and traced the outline of the capital with his finger. “The part of Khan Baliq that is not against the mountain is protected by thick walls. It is a true mountain fortress, and besieging it will prove difficult… unless we find a way to sneak some troops in and open the gates from the inside.”

Gaius caught on. “Sneak in… from the sky, for example.”

Wingul nodded. “Provided it is feasible, it is without a doubt the most efficient way to take the city quickly, with the least casualties.”

Gaius grinned. “This is why I need you as my strategist!” he exclaimed.

Wingul tried to keep his expression humble, but he could not entirely conceal a proud smile. “I’ve heard wyverns are hard to tame, so no one has attempted to ride them into battle before. If we succeed, the enemy will not anticipate it.”

Gaius walked around the strategy table to Wingul’s side. He wrapped a hand around his waist and pulled him toward him, using the momentum to press his mouth against his. Wingul let out a soft sound of surprise, before returning the kiss. When he pulled back, his cheeks had taken a slightly pink hue.

“What was that for?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“A reward for your brilliant strategy.”

Wingul’s blush deepened, and he looked away, suddenly self-conscious. “You flatter me,” he muttered.

“It’s the truth,” Gaius simply stated.

Wingul closed his eyes, recovering his bearings. When he opened them again, all traces of shyness were gone. “I think I deserve more.”

Gaius stepped closer, laughing. He cupped Wingul’s face and tilted it upward. “You’re getting bolder.”

“You like that.”

Gaius responded with another kiss. This time, there was no hesitation. Wingul met him half-way with eagerness, and they took their time savoring each other’s lips and tongue, strategies momentarily forgotten. As their kisses grew progressively heated, Gaius helped Wingul up to sit on the table. Wingul wasted no time putting his legs around Gaius’ middle, trapping him against him. Gaius grunted approvingly against his lips, rocking his hips once and leaning forward to better slip his tongue into his mouth.

They would have happily taken it further, with no consideration for the table and its contents, had a noise outside the door not startled them. In an instant, they were both standing apart, Wingul frantically smoothing down the crumpled map while Gaius retrieved some of the wooden pieces that had fallen on the floor. They made it just in time, for the next moment Nils was passing his head through the door.

“Lin? Ah, there you are! I was looking for you because… Lin, are you all right? Do you have a fever?” He turned a displeased face toward Gaius. “Have you been overworking him again?”

Gaius glanced at Wingul, whose eyes were intently focused on the map. With his reddened cheeks and glossy eyes, it was true that he looked a little feverish, if you were oblivious to the scene that had just taken place.

“He’s fine,” Gaius reassured Nils. “We were just passionately debating what strategy to take for the upcoming battle.”

Wingul shot Gaius a warning look, then turned to Nils. “Is it about the council? You can bring them here. We are ready.”

While Nils left to fetch the other advisors, Gaius and Wingul placed the pieces back on the map without a word, pointedly avoiding looking at each other.

* * *

Despite their capital’s situation, the Kitarl had always been land fighters, perhaps due to their affinity with monsters. Weeks of water skirmishes and blockades had significantly weakened their fleet, not that it was ever a match against the Long Dau’s sturdy river ships to begin with. They landed in the late morning after a short naval battle—the Kitarl clan’s last-ditch effort to stop their advance. Gaius sighed with relief when his feet touched the ground, glad to finally be away from the treacherous currents.

From there, the path to follow was straightforward: strike down anyone who stood in their way, secure the city’s strong points, find the chief, and force him to submit. The Taurus army poured onto the riverbanks, squads split on each bank with specific missions to accomplish. Wingul at his side, Gaius had only one objective: locate the chief.

The teams that accompanied them handled the enemies trying to stop them, so that they could keep moving forward.

“The chief’s residence is right ahead!” Gaius said. “If we make it past the main bridge, he is as good as done!”

Taking the bridge was another matter, however. Clansmen were defending it fiercely, with a herd of armored boars prepared to trample anyone who dared set foot on it.

Steeling himself, Gaius focused mana into his lilium orb, his consciousness searching for his partner. Wingul responded to the call, and soon their awareness were linked. Like a dance, they cut through the first line of defense in coordinated movements, Gaius’ wide sweeps keeping enemies at bay while Wingul swiftly dispatched anyone trying to sneak behind him. Steadily, the Taurus warriors made their way through the bridge, pushing the defenders further back.

Gaius extracted his blade from the thick hide of a fallen boar. His senses enhanced by the link, he felt Wingul step toward him, guarding his back.

“You ok?” he asked, pausing a moment to take a breath.

“As if you need to ask.”

“Those boars are a problem,” Gaius remarked, watching Nils and his teammate of the day struggle against a particularly large specimen.

“I’ll take care of them.” Wingul hopped on the bridge’s parapet and started channeling. _“Sutīt waliod, bun’ tuya bledun’!”_

The air was suddenly charged with electricity, making Gaius’ hair rise on the back of his neck. Around Wingul, lightning crackled, slowly taking the shape of a sword that swept aside nearby enemies as it circled up around him, before lurching at the herd of boars a little further ahead. _“Thunder Blade!”_

The smell of burnt meat assaulted Gaius’ senses as Wingul’s arte singed the monsters. Nils and the others took advantage of their shock to cut their way through the end of the bridge. Gaius stayed near Wingul, fending off Kitarl warriors who tried to come near, while Wingul fired more artes at the boars to finish them off.

All it took was a fraction of a second. A moment of inattention from both of them. Wingul, because he was too focused on the boars; Gaius, because he was busy trying to break his opponent’s guard. They noticed the enemy caster too late, and by the time Gaius shouted a warning, a Fireball was already soaring through the air toward Wingul, who barely had the time to throw up a hasty shield to bear the brunt of the arte. The ball of fire bounced on Wingul’s shield, only leaving him with a mild burn on the palm of his hand, but the impact made him take a step back. Gaius watched in horror as his partner lost his footing at the edge of the parapet, before plummeting to the depths below.

“Lin!!” a voice screamed. His own, he realized.

He quickly finished his opponent and rushed to the edge to look below. Aside from ripples, the surface of the river showed no trace of the Taurus strategist. Only the faint glow of the link indicated that he was down there somewhere, slowly drifting away with the current.

_He could not breath. Could not see. The raging flow tossed him around. He did not know which way was up, or down, or right, or left. His limbs were heavy, uncooperating._

“Commander!”

_Water filled his lungs. Panic filled his mind. He did not know anything anymore. Only darkness, and the coursing water._

The sound of steel brought him back. He was not drowning. He was there, on the bridge. On his knees, hands griping the edge of the parapet. Glancing behind, he saw a Taurus warrior battling four Kitarl men at once, her axe swinging back and forth, unrelenting. Numbly, he got up and looked back to the river, only to realize with a sinking feeling that the link had been broken.

Frantically, he tried to reactivate it, sending his intent toward the water. Would it even work? Was Lin even conscious enough to feel it, to respond? With each unfruitful attempt, Gaius’ mind succumbed further to panic.

_The wave was merciless, sweeping everything in its wake. Resistance was futile, for who could oppose the forces of nature?_

“Fucking hell, Nils, _help me!_ ” came the warrior’s voice. Only then did Gaius notice that Nils had joined him at the edge, scanning the river for any sign of his fallen master. “Nils!” Nils ignored the woman and leaned over the low wall to get a better view. “Nils, I swear to Efreet, if you don’t get your ass _right here_ —”

Gaius reluctantly tore his gaze away from the river to look at her. Two fighters lay at her feet, but three more had joined the fray and she was struggling to keep them at bay. Hurriedly, Gaius poured a large amount of mana into an arte. _“Demon Fang!”_

The shockwave missed his soldier by a hair and slammed into the enemies with full force, sending them flying several meters away.

“Fucking _thank you_ ,” she yelled.

But Gaius was already back at the edge, his eyes fixed on the deadly currents, his heart in his throat. “Please, Wingul…” he pleaded quietly.

After what felt like ages, a mass of familiar black hair emerged, and Gaius breathed in unconsciously. Wingul was much further away than he’d imagined, pushed downstream by the river’s flow. Nils called out to him, but either Wingul did not hear him, or he was not in a position to react, because he made no motion of acknowledgment. The next moment, terror gripped Gaius’ lungs once more as Wingul disappeared again under the surface. After seconds that felt like hours, he re-emerged, a little further still and closer to the wall.

“He’s swimming toward the quay!” Nils exclaimed.

Xian Du had a number of docks spread out along the river. If Wingul could make it to the river wall, he would eventually come across a place to get out of the water, provided he did not tire and sink before then. Gaius looked ahead. Fortunately, the path was clear, but the docks downstream were unguarded. If the enemy brought reinforcements…

“Secure the bridge!” he ordered Nils, before taking off toward that side of the bank. He never ran so fast in his life. The exhaustion from the fights, the sting of minor battle wounds, the tightness in his throat that was making it hard to breathe—none of that mattered anymore. In that moment, his focus was entirely on one objective: reach the dock, and protect Wingul. He dashed through the street, jumped over the ledge, and landed on the dock just in time to grab Wingul’s hand as he gripped the edge of the stone platform. In one movement, he pulled him back to the dock, letting him down gently on the ground. Wingul was soaked to the bone and panting from exertion, but looked otherwise unhurt.

Gaius immediately started fussing. “Are you all right? Did you inhale water?”

“I’m fine, no thanks to you,” Wingul snapped. “What the hell was tha—Gaius, are you crying?”

Gaius wiped his face, but all he accomplished was making it wetter, by spreading the moisture that got on his hands when he touched Wingul’s clothes. “It’s just sweat,” he deflected.

Wingul leveled him with an unimpressed glare, but they did not have time to argue further, because a messenger came running toward them calling for Gaius.

“Commander! Commander!”

The young man ran down the stairs to their platform and skidded to a halt in front of them, greeting them with a hasty bow.

Gaius got up. “What is it? Speak.”

“Commander, the Kitarl chief has fled to the Royal Hunting Grounds!”

Wingul scoffed. “Coward. Is he planning to abandon his clansmen? If it is his life he wanted to save, he should have submitted when we were still open to negotiations.”

“Spread the word through the city,” Gaius ordered. “Let them hear what their leader is like.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Relay this to the troops: those who surrender shall be treated with care. No mercy for those who still resist. As usual, any harm to civilians in the aftermath will be punished. And tell Nils to assemble a squad; we’re giving chase.”

“Yes, sir.” The messenger bowed once more, then sprinted away to relay Gaius’ orders.

Gaius turned to Wingul and extended a hand. “Can you stand?”

Wingul ignored Gaius’ hand and stood up on his own. His legs were still a little wobbly, but he could walk without difficulty. He took off his drenched outer layer and set it on the ground. “It’ll only impede my movements,” he explained. He also wrung his clothes and drained water from his boots to the best of his ability. Suddenly, he turned to Gaius, frowning. “I lost my sword.”

“I’ll get you a new one when we go home. In the meanwhile, let’s find you a spare.”

* * *

The chase of the fleeing chief ended on an anticlimactic note. The man must have thought that the Taurus troops would not dare follow him through the hunting grounds, but in the end, he was the one who fell prey to the very monsters he thought would deter his pursuers. Gaius later learned that the man was known to overestimate his beastcraft abilities, so his disgraceful end was, all things considered, not entirely surprising. The Taurus squad transported his mangled body back to the city, along with those of the monsters who killed him. With that display of strength, the remaining fighters were quick to concede defeat, and the city opened its doors to a new administration.

The sun was setting on the horizon when Gaius could finally retire to an inn room to freshen up and rest before the mountain of work that awaited him the next day. Integrating new territories to their sphere of influence was always an arduous task, often more difficult than the battle to seize them.

After a quick bath, he sat on his bed with a weary sigh and crossed his legs to meditate. The events of the afternoon had left him drained, and he needed a moment alone to collect himself and quell the feeling of dread that had taken hold of his heart ever since he saw Wingul fall.

His peace was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” he asked, his eyes still closed. When he received no response, he opened his eyes, only to find a pair of familiar golden eyes staring at him. Wingul was dry now, and his skin and hair looked soft from a recent hot bath.

“Letting yourself into my bedroom without invitation, now?” Gaius chuckled. “You’ve grown bold indeed.”

Wingul stared at him for a moment longer before replying. “It is the last time.”

Gaius’ smile dropped. “What do you mean?”

“I won’t seek you out privately anymore. I should never have. It was my mistake, I apologize.”

“Wingul!” Alarmed, Gaius sat up at the edge of the bed, ready to spring up. “Are you…” The words caught in his throat. _Are you breaking up with me, now of all times?_

Wingul seemed to catch his unvoiced question. “We have become too entangled. I should have known this would happen, but I let my emotions cloud my judgment. It won’t happen again.”

“How can you say that after… after everything?”

“Commander,” Wingul addressed him formally. “You are our future king; you must act like one. It is unsuitable for you to lose your composure just because your subordinate has a minor accident.”

“A minor accident? Wingul—”

“Nils told me you were so shaken that you nearly collapsed on the bridge. I would expect that from him, not from my future monarch.”

Gaius’ eyes shut tight. “Do you not realize what happened? You nearly _drowned_.”

“I had everything under control.” Wingul’s next words were biting. “Unlike you.”

Gaius gave him a long look. “When you went under,” he said in a low voice, “you stopped breathing. I felt it through the link.”

“Well, of course. I was holding my breath,” Wingul explained, as if it was obvious. When he saw Gaius’ doubtful expression, he added more gently, “Gaius, I grew up on this river. I knew what to do the moment I lost my footing.” He sighed. “I… felt your panic,” he admitted. “It disoriented me. There was just so much dread… I thought **I** was panicking, when my mind had been clear a second before. It took me a moment to realize it was coming from you, through the link. I almost believed you’d fallen after me and were the one drowning. If I hadn’t cut the link then, I wouldn’t have made it back to the surface.”

Gaius looked down guiltily. He had never factored how his reaction would have been perceived from the other side. But then again, he couldn’t exactly help it, could he? And anyway…

“What if no one had been there to cover your back?” Wingul pressed. “You left yourself wide open, and what for? It’s not like you could have helped me anyway.”

“I know,” Gaius said. “I know, but…”

“Gaius…” Wingul said quietly, his anger abating. “I don’t want us to grow distant any more than you do. But if it is what it takes, then I can’t hesitate. I won’t become a liability.”

Gaius shook his head. “You’re not.”

“We just saw that I could be. If it happens again because of me…”

“It won’t,” Gaius countered confidently. “And it was not your fault.”

“Gaius…”

Gaius scooted back on the bed, leaning against the wall, and leaving space next to him. “Sit with me.”

Wingul hesitated a moment, but eventually did as he was told. He sat at the edge of the bed, back straight, facing the door. If Gaius reached out, he would be able to touch his back, or put a hand on his shoulder. But his hand stayed at his side. He stared right ahead, gathering his thoughts, steeling himself. He tried to speak several times, but the muscles of his jaw would not budge, words dying in his throat before they had a chance to be formed.

“It won’t happen again,” Gaius started at last, “because we’re not going to fight on water again.”

“It could happen in other circumstances,” Wingul pointed out.

“No. No, I…” Gaius took a deep breath. Then another, drinking in the air hungrily, relishing in the ability breathe unrestrained. “What I’m going to tell you…” he said, closing his eyes. It was dark, but not the all-encompassing darkness of the depths. He could make out the warm dancing glow of the candles through his eyelids. They were in a comfortable inn room, dry, and safe. “Only three people in the world know. One is dead, and the other two will take it to the grave.”

Wingul shifted, and Gaius opened his eyes to find him looking at him, curiosity and concern etched on his face.

Gaius took in another breath. His heart pounded in his chest. “When I saw you fall into the water, and when I felt you stop breathing… or holding your breath, as you said, but to me it was the same thing... When I thought you were drowning, I was taken back to that time.” He was not making much sense, he knew. His explanation was jumbled, and his voice unsteady. Wingul was probably thinking how un-king-like he sounded at the moment. For some reason, that thought filled him with warmth.

“That time?” Wingul prompted after a while.

“I almost drowned, back then.”

Wingul’s brows were furrowed in confusion, until his eyes widened as the realization dawned on him. Color drained from his face. “Fezebel.”

Gaius nodded slowly. “The tsunami that struck the battlefield that day… There was no way to resist. I suppose, in comparison, the current here is nothing compared to the violence of that wave. It took everything apart, and when you went under…” He shuddered. “It is only through sheer luck that I survived. I was on slightly elevated ground when it struck, and it spat me out against a hillside as quickly as it had pulled me under. I was barely conscious, but still had enough wits to myself to scramble up to dry land. If I had been slower, I would have been pulled right back in. Others did not have that chance. I saw my men—my _friends_ —disappear under the surface, never to return.

“Those few moments spent underwater…” he continued, voice thick. “It felt like seconds and like hours simultaneously. I never felt so powerless as then, at the complete mercy of the currents. You think I’m strong, but did you know it took me months afterward before I could take a simple bath without my father holding my hand?”

Wingul’s eyes fluttered downward. “Is that why you’re always queasy on a boat?” he asked quietly.

“I prefer stable ground,” Gaius answered lightly. “Usually, I am fine,” he added reassuringly. “I thought I had put it all behind, but it seems your fall brought those old feelings back to the surface.”

“You thought you were drowning again,” Wingul understood. “Because of the link.”

“Yes.” Gaius reached to take his hand, but stopped before he could touch it and let his arm fall back on the bed. “Wingul, you don’t have to feel responsible. It is entirely my burden to bear. I won’t lie and pretend that the fact it was _you_ in particular did not add to my distress, but it would have still happened if it were Nils instead of you.”

Wingul cracked a smile. “I suppose I should be glad it was me, then.”

“Wingul…”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t get to say it earlier, but… Thank you for surviving.” He sneaked his hand to Wingul’s and took it, squeezing it lightly. Wingul turned it up and interlaced their fingers.

“I still maintain that we are too entangled,” Wingul said, snuggling up to him. “People could use me against you.”

“People would use you against me if they could, regardless of whether they knew about our relationship,” Gaius argued, letting go of his hand so he could wrap his arm around his shoulders. “You are a key player in this campaign. Whatever the state of our entanglement, your loss would be a heavy blow on Taurus.”

“I suppose you’re right…”

Gaius pressed a kiss to his temple. “Stay here tonight.”

Wingul pushed him to the side so that Gaius was lying on his back on the bed. Wingul straddled him and bent over, placing his hands on either side of his head for support.

“I’m afraid I will have to rescind my earlier statement.”

Gaius cocked an eyebrow. Wingul gave him a mischievous smile.

“This is not the last time I will be invading your bedroom.”

Gaius laughed. “I am glad to hear that.”

That night, with the warm body of his partner sleeping soundly in his arms, Gaius thought about his fallen comrades, and the countless lives that had been lost to the rage of the elements. He thought about himself, young and lost, gasping for breath on that hill. Holding Wingul a little tighter, Gaius silently renewed his vow to forge a brighter future for their country. A future where no one would have to drown.


End file.
